


Makamae

by aries_taurus



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Miscarriage, Stillbirth, Tears, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aries_taurus/pseuds/aries_taurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, all he can remember is her face, eyes closed, pale lashes dark on her translucent, porcelain skin, her weight in his arms as he rocks her gently for what feels like hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makamae

**Author's Note:**

> _Every year, I write a story for my mother. Next Friday is the 7th anniversary of her passing and so, I wrote this._
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> _This year, it is a very, very sad story of loss._
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> _In the years following my mother’s passing, my husband and I attempted to have a child. We failed. We tried everything possible but it wasn’t meant to be._
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> _I got pregnant three times and never carried to term. I lost early. It was a blessing in a sense but I mourned each of my children. I tried again, until I could no more but each of those lives I carried, however briefly, was precious, desired and I will miss them always. This story is a tribute to all this and about how love survives loss._
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> _Thanks for reading._
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> _P. S. Title means precious, darling. I thought it fitting._
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> _P. P. S. Mom, I still miss you, and I love you, very, very much and wish you were here every day._
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> _More notes at the end._

_Inspired by “Fix you” by ColdPlay_

_Abridged lyrics._

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed_   
_When you get what you want, but not what you need_   
_When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep_   
_Stuck in reverse_   
  
_And the tears come streaming down your face_   
_When you lose something you can't replace_

_Lights will guide you home_   
_And ignite your bones_   
_And I will try to fix you_

_\-------------_

 

Later, all he can remember is her face, eyes closed, pale lashes dark on her translucent, porcelain skin, her weight in his arms as he rocks her gently for what feels like hours.

His angel. His daughter. Gone before she was even really here.

He doesn’t know how he ended up here.

The sand is cold on his knees, its warmth evaporated in the darkness of the night.

The sky goes light, deep night blue lightening to indigo and to a million shades of pink until the rising sun set the ocean alight, its fire burning the night away.

He lets his head fall, the birth of the new day drawing tears from his eyes and they stream down his face as the pain in his heart grows and swells until it consumes him.

He turns his face to the fiery sky and screams, fists balled, the grief too much to contain. He wants to ask why; why him, why her, why _them_ but he knows there’s no answer, no reason.

The waves crash over the sand, the water rolling to him, caressing his knees and it calls to him and he wants to answer, wants to drown in it, wants this unbearable sadness to go away, doesn’t want to live with this, doesn’t want to move past it, doesn’t want to have to remember it.

But he won’t. He’ll bear it because he has to, because _they_ lost her. It’s not just him, it’s her mother too.

He screams again, hating himself for leaving her despite her drug-forced sleep, knowing he had no other choice; he can’t break because no matter how hard it is on him, it’s worse on her. He has to be there for her if only because he can’t lose her too.

The tears are never-ending. He doesn’t think he’s ever cried like this, didn’t know it was even possible to feel such sorrow. He gets lost in it, lets it overwhelm him. He feels the sand on his hands, in his palms, cold and he thinks he’ll never feel warm again.

The hands on his back are gentle, familiar and her arms encircle him, drawing him to her and he goes willingly, lets himself collapse into her lap, letting her rock him gently, until he’s wept all the tears in the ocean.

He lies there as she strokes his hair, the moving water the only sound around them. The grief isn’t gone, won’t be for a long time but for the first time in a really long while, he doesn’t have to face it alone.

She isn’t perfect, of that, he’s well aware, but she’s his mother and she’s there now and at this moment in time, it’s what matters. He feels her own tears fall onto his shoulder, knows her grief is his to share as well, knows she’ll be there.

He’s her son.

Now, he understands.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a Doris fan. I don’t trust her, but this is about mothers and how they care and despite her “badness”, I think she does care for Steve, despite all the mistakes she’s made and keeps making. I ask kindly that those of you who hate Doris keep the object of this fic in mind in your comments because I don’t think I could take bashing on this one, even if I’m pretty much dent-proof.
> 
> Also, to those who’ve commented on my previous fic, I apologise for my lack of response. I’ve been crazy busy and worked overtime a lot plus canine emergencies and spring break boarding. I’ll remedy over the weekend.


End file.
